Xellos, stood, poised. An instrument, wet with blood, soap and tears was clasped tightly in one grimy hand. Though he rarely, if ever, was able to get dirty. The Mazoku was filthy. Fur and gore covered him head to foot and a look of madness was clear on his face. His eyes, the pupils always narrow and triangular, were blood shot and dilated and were open for once. His hair brushed against his face and the inhuman creature didn’t both brushing it aside.
Wildly, he swung the instrument of death into the shower curtain. A unholy howl rose from within the indescribably dirty tub. A thunk was heard. Xellos smiled.
His smile widened to a grotesque version of a grin and the Mazoku began screaming a savage war cry. Animal from all over the surrounding area howled back and several small woodland creatures imploded.
Again, Xellos swung the brush into the tub and was treated to another scream and a dull thud. The Mazoku turned a split second later, a feral grin on his face. This was it; this was what all that training was for, all those years of torture and never-ending pain!
A large, grey-ish shape emerged from the tub. Huge claws, ones bigger than most people’s head, scraped against the ground creating and awful sound. Its eyes, as wide and red as Shabranigdo, darted to and fro. The creatures fur stood up in clumps and spikes and when Xellos leaped upon it, the thing howled.
The Mazoku pushed the wolf thing back, defying every law of physics. When the creature was far enough, Xellos readied himself and stuck the long-handled brush in-between his teeth. Both hands were needed, though the Mazoku prided himself for being the only living thing in existence to be able to do this with only two arms.
The thing stepped backwards.
There was only a split second…There. He leaped. His bag went flying and the velocity of his hurdle was enough to peel the flesh from most people’s bones. All of his skin pulled back and several teeth and his part of his very body were left behind.
The grey furred creature let out a moan and attempted to back even further away. Xellos’ magnificent leap had frightened the wolf-ish being and if anyone else had been there, they would have felt the same. Without fear and as though his form knew no forms of gravity, Xellos continued to soar. Most bits and pieces of his body were lost.
The Mazoku closed his arms around the being. They both screamed savagely and blood flew in the air. More furry creatures gave up their lives. The two awful monstrosities fell backwards into the tub.
As the beings before him, Xellos fought. He fought for every Mazoku who had lost at the wolf’s hands, paws. He fought for darkness, evil, a revolution, a new world.
The wolf, which had never been this close to defeat before, fought. It fought for its survival, its way of life, the spirits of his ancestors.
No words could ever be used to describe the ‘wrestling.’ The closest things are: beauty, awfulness, death, destruction, madness, life, pudding, birth, ungodliness. The very gods themselves wept.
For an eternity, the two beings struggled. Neither would walk away from this completely clean and with a soul, but they didn’t care about such things. Blood, sinew, feces, fur and soap covered the skies surrounding the island and for over two years following, sunsets would as red as blood.
With one mighty hand, Xellos pulled the brush from out of his skull with a sickening crunch. He had no teeth left and most of his skin and all of his hair was gone. The poor wolf let out a forlorn moan. It knew full well that any chance for escape was gone. It had done its best…and had still lost.
With little grace, the creature (the one with fur) rolled onto its stomach, paws in the air. Xellos shrieked in ecstasy. Finally, this was what he’d been waiting for!
The Mazoku stood hands and head held high. Only one arm worked properly and he was numb all over, but…victory! Xellos stamped his foot and screeched. Glass from as far as one hundred miles away exploded.
He continued howling for one solid day, as was per regulated. Everyone from the surrounding islands fled for safety and somewhere, a Mazoku Lord smiled wryly and gave a nearby dolphin a large sack of coins.
When the time was finally right, Xellos stopped howling. Every voice he possessed, even the one on the astral plain, was nearly used up. A lot of his energy was gone, but the Mazoku knew he still had enough strength to complete his duty. He threw down the brush and looked at the creature below him. The thing whimpered and began to cry. Xellos grinned in triumph.
“Who’s your daddy?!” The Mazoku shrieked into the creature’s face. In response, the wolf moaned.
“That’s right! I am!” With his remaining limbs and pieces, Xellos performed a small celebratory dance. The world was a grand, evil place.
But, only one thing remained.
His mission was not yet complete.
Grimly, the Mazoku bent down and picked up the cleaning instrument awkwardly. Sure, he’d been expecting something like this, but still. Using only two fingers was harder than he expected. Xellos brushed any thoughts not pertaining to his duty aside.
As soon as he had a somewhat decent grip on the brush, Xellos stood before the fallen creature. It’s once proud body reduced to a mere shadow, the tiniest vapor. The Mazoku smiled almost gently and reached for the knob.
As though pleading for some last chance, the wolf raised a weary paw.
Xellos turned the water on.
“ Bath time!” The shrieking thing proclaimed its single remaining eye still somehow purple and for all of eternity, the wolf would forever see the purple.
The unending purple.